


A Shield Made of Cloth

by Cynthia_Gold



Series: Fluff Ensues [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Fluff, Nightmares, POV Second Person, Pillow Talk, Two Versions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynthia_Gold/pseuds/Cynthia_Gold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Sam (or Dean!) fear for Dean and for yourselves as the Mark takes hold of Dean.  Angst and Fluff ensue.<br/>Set just after 10.14 "The Executioner's Song"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sam Version

The bedroom door shut with a soft slap as Sam closed it behind him, exhausted.  His eyes did not meet yours as you coaxed him into sleeping clothes, prodded him towards the sink to brush his teeth.  The sheets rustled as you climbed in and lifted them, a welcoming gesture for the tired man before you.  You knew he needed no welcome; this was his bed as much as it was yours.  He smiled softly at the effort.

Strong arms surrounded you as Sam climbed into bed, and you let the blankets drape over you both as he clung to you, breathing in your scent, trying to draw comfort from it.  It was not long before he spoke, as you expected him to. 

“Dean’s not okay,” he mumbled into your shoulder, still holding you.  You stroked his back and arms soothingly, beckoning that he continue.  “I’m scared for us.  He could kill Cas.  He could kill _me_.”  You stopped your stroking and pulled back to look at him.  He paused, sighing.  “Well it isn’t called the Mark of Cain for nothing…”

Sam rolled onto his back, bouncing the mattress lightly and causing the sheets to roll with him, opening up a space through which the cold air could grasp onto your leg.  You quickly pulled it in and huddled closer to Sam, who spread his palm over your belly, using the other as a pillow.

Warmth seeped into your skin from his hand, and for a moment you could forget your fears and Sam’s, losing yourself in the simple touch.  You felt your lids begin to droop.

Suddenly, Dean was standing over you, eyes black, blade in hand.  Sam shadowed the doorway, holding the Colt.  His hand trembled as he aimed.  You wondered faintly if he would pull the trigger before the blade plunged into your flesh.

You jolted awake, panting slightly.  Sam’s curious, concerned eyes peeked at you in the dim light, and you relayed to him your nightmare as he pulled you into him.  He listened as you spoke, a shadow crossing his features as you revealed more details of the short dream.

When you finished, he kissed you again and again, whispering, “Never gonna let that happen to you…” and “I would die first…” as you clutched onto him.  Despite this, you felt that you could almost hear his thoughts: _I hope to God that never happens_ , and _How do I choose?  How could I choose?_

The worry did not ease away from him, even as he deepens the kisses, drawing you closer, hovering over you.  He began to kiss desperately, tugging at your clothes.  It was not long before you lost yourselves in a mess of heat and tangled limbs.


	2. The Dean Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like the Sam version, but with you and Dean instead.

Dean faltered at the doorway to his room, watching you read a book, waiting for him in bed.  You felt his eyes on you and looked up, taking in the cuts on his face and the dread in his eyes.  You closed your book and put it aside, drawing up your limbs as Dean continued to stare, unmoving, empty.  You were about to open your mouth to speak when you heard his quiet voice say, “You can’t stay here.”  _What?_   The words didn’t register.  You blinked up at him, perplexed.  He stepped forward.  “You can’t stay here with me anymore.”  You did not move an inch.  “Look, there’s a room down the hall you can stay in tonight.  You might be safe there in case I…” he trailed off with his mouth open, eyes downcast, defeated.  You stood up, walking to Dean, and pulled his chin up so that you could look him in the eyes when you told him that you weren’t leaving.

He turned his back to you immediately, resting his head in his hands.  “Don’t fight me on this one, please.”  He sounded weary, but panic edged into his voice as he turned back to you and almost yelled, “I don’t want to hurt y-”

You did not allow him to finish his sentence, knocking some air out of him as you embraced him tightly.  Wet warmth soon collected on your collar as tears slipped away from the man gripping you back, holding onto something dear.  You held him for a long time, rubbing gentle circles into his back. 

When he let go, you lead him by the hand to bed.  You helped each other undress to your underwear, though there was no rush in your actions.  You pressed gentle kisses to each cut on his face.  He sighed into your touch, closing his eyes.  You kissed your way down his neck and onto his arm, feeling him tense as you slowly approached the Mark.

You stopped, feeling him tense, and held his arm firmly, covering the Mark with your palm, and looked up into his wide, scared eyes.  You kissed his mouth, pouring comfort into each swipe of your tongue, hoping to assuage his fears as you worried his lip slightly with your teeth. 

Tension escaped him as he lost himself to your touch.  Your kisses slowed, and soon you and Dean were drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, fears forgotten for the night.


End file.
